


One Time Too Many

by Asselin



Category: Gaunt's Ghosts - Dan Abnett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 01:07:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21878761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asselin/pseuds/Asselin
Summary: After acquiring a planet and settling down on a farm, Gaunt employs Rawne to help him put Cuu in his place.
Kudos: 1





	One Time Too Many

**Author's Note:**

  * For [twopunch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/twopunch/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed "Be Bloody, Bold, and Resolute", the story you wrote for the same fandom. Writing a treat story for you was the most fun I had all Christmas season, and your letters are, in a word, awesome. Please keep on writing them with such great detail!  
>    
> Disclaimer: Warhammer 40k does not belong to me or mine. I am not making money off of this story, nor do I intend to.
> 
> 2019 EDIT: A few years ago, I planned to remove all my posted stories from this account and only use it to leave kudos occasionally. However, removing what were gifts to other people without even a warning was a mistake, so as of now I'm reposting all of my Yuletide works.  
> And thank you, CousinShelley, for sending me the email that started this!

Being snuck up on was the last thing he expected.

Larkin was lying on the porch, taking in the warm spring sun like anyone would when they were given such a beautiful day to enjoy, when he became acutely aware of a presence somewhere close to his outstretched feet. Whipping his head up, he came eye to eye with Cuu. A yelp began to rise in his throat, but the intense look in Cuu’s eyes stopped him and he scrambled to bring his feet under him and move away with all speed.

“Cuu!” Both looked up as a figure rose above the both of them, its face shrouded in shadows provided by the sun at its back. But neither could mistake Gaunt’s voice for anything else. Larkin whined and hid his face, but Cuu glared up at the ex-commissar. Clearly unimpressed, Gaunt reached down with hands bigger than Cuu’s own feet and raised him up to tuck under his arm.

“I hope you’re through tormenting Larkin,” he said sternly, a voice he had no doubt used often back in the old days. “I’d hate to have to put you in the pot.”

The rooster glowered with furious yellow eyes, screeching in protest as he was hauled over to the chicken pen and unceremoniously thrown inside. Dusting himself off, Gaunt returned to Larkin and crouched down, peering birdlike at the old dog. “Why do you let him antagonize you like that?” he asked. “He’s only a bird.”

From the pen, Cuu crowed loudly.

Larkin let his tail droop, wagging it feebly. “Because…’cause he’s a fething scary bird, that‘s why. He acts like he owns the place, and if you don‘t cower….” He blinked sheepishly and glanced to the opposite side of the farmyard, where Bragg and the two cats, Mkoll and Mkvenner, lay curled up in a warm bundle.

When Cuu had arrived initially, the big mastiff had refused to let a rooster bow him, and in the fight that had ensued Cuu had left deep scars all along his muscled chest. Rawne had been much of the same general opinion of the rooster as Bragg had, but no one, not even Cuu, messed with him. Despite being a rather small dog, he exuded an aura of untold savagery doubtless inherited from his wild ancestors, and as such he stalked through the farm unhindered by even the wildest vermin. If Cuu was the scariest that a bird could get, then Rawne was the scariest that a dog could get. Feth that, Gaunt thought, he was probably the scariest that any animal could get.

“Could you…I dunno, do something about Cuu?” Larkin asked, looking piteously at him. The ex-commissar blinked once, then reached out with a half-smile and rubbed over the old dog’s floppy ears.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he answered. Larkin grinned feebly, wagging his fringed tail once more.

“Thanks, commissar.”

++

“You do know that Cuu’s your only rooster, don’t you?” Rawne seemed to have a smirk on his muzzle, and Gaunt scowled, folding his arms and leaning against the farmhouse wall.

“Of course I do,” he replied tersely. “But I can’t just sit back and let him torment Larkin to death.”

“And the Emperor knows, that old dog’s close enough to it already without his help,” Rawne finished, settling down on the floor with his tail tucked in beneath his haunches.

Gaunt didn’t reply. Much as he didn’t like to admit it, Rawne was correct - Cuu was the only rooster he had, and without him there wouldn’t be any more roosters to carry on his flock. But if he didn’t do something, it was just as likely that the fething rooster would kill all the other animals in the farmyard and be the only one left besides his hens.

“I don’t suppose that broody hen is doing anything,” Rawne said, looking up.

“She’s got a nest set up,” Gaunt answered absently. Doing a double-take, he continued, “If you mean get rid of him and let my entire hopes for a continuing flock ride on her, that’s suicidal.”

Rawne shrugged, his coat rippling oddly. “You always get mostly roosters out of Cuu, anyway. And she’s a very reliable hen, so you have very little to worry about.”

“Still.”

“So you’re admitting that you don’t really give a damn about Larkin, you just wanted him to shut his yap and leave you alone.”

“No. I don’t want to leave him on his own here, but it’s not as easy as all that. He’s a threat to the integrity of the entire farmyard, true, but taking him out without thinking it through first is an equal threat. And don’t tell me that your continuing survival doesn’t depend on those birds, even if it is indirectly.”

Again the dog shrugged. “I survived in the wild before.”

“Yes, you did. But what about Feygor? Do you want him to go back to sneaking food from chicken coops?”

Rawne scowled. “I can take care of him too, if it comes down to that.”

“And the others? What about them?”

“That’s your problem,” Rawne answered stiffly, rising from his sprawl and shaking himself off. Catching sight of Feygor across the yard, he trotted away, but not before calling back over his shoulder, “I’ll do as I see fit.”

++

Later that afternoon, Gaunt was in the farmhouse kitchen, putting away the beginnings of the wild-grown foods from the woods surrounding the farm, when he heard a call of ‘Hello!’ from outside. Looking up, he saw Dahan, the son of ex-flame trooper Lonnfeld from the farm a few miles over.

“I didn’t expect to see you today,” he called back.

“I know!” the youth replied, coming closer and lowering his voice. “Father wanted to know if you could spare some eggs. Our chickens haven’t been producing very well, what with the coyotes being out most nights and scaring them half to death.”

“I see. Well, in that case, get as much as you want. Most of them should have lain by now, so you can just go and get them out of the henhouse. Just mind that you keep an eye on Cuu.”

“Who?”

“The rooster. He’s got a temper shorter than an lho-stick, so just don’t turn your back to him.”

“Alright, I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks.” Turning away, Dahan headed toward the chicken pen, opening then closing the gate and vanishing inside the henhouse. Gaunt shook his head, returning to his work.

Several minutes passed before he heard from Dahan again, and then it was in the form of an aborted scream. Throwing down what he was doing, the ex-commissar dashed outside in time to see the boy emerge from the henhouse, blood streaming from a ragged tear beneath his left eye.

“What the feth happened?” Gaunt demanded, throwing the gate open.

“I guess you warned me,” Dahan mumbled disjointedly, “That fething bird came out of nowhere…I didn’t have time to react…”

“Get a cloth over that,” Gaunt ordered, feeling for a split second as if he were back in his old days as a colonel-commissar, just him and his men against something far more terrifying than a homicidal chicken.

The boy nodded obediently, pulling his sleeve up over his hand before applying it to the tear. “That bird is crazy,” he stammered. “Like a rabid dog or something.”

Gaunt nodded. “I know, and I’ve let the damn thing go one too many times.”

“Are you going to…?”

“Yes, I’m afraid I have to. I can’t let the fething bird live if it’s going to behave like this.”

“No, I meant are you going to save some for us?”

“Oh. Yes, of course. Assuming I ever catch the fething thing.”

“Well, he’s just inside there, so have at him.”

But just at that moment, Cuu burst from inside the henhouse, his feathers fluffed up and his yellow eyes mad with bloodlust. He screeched in fury at the sight of Dahan standing there with a bloody sleeve pressed to his cheek and charged, but was met halfway as Gaunt swung a pan that he had forgotten to drop in his haste to leave the house. It hit Cuu with a loud ‘bong!’, and the rooster dropped in a puff of feathers, where he lay, apparently quite dead.

Dahan stared at the corpse blankly. “That was easy,” he remarked.

“Of course. You weren’t the one having to swing the pan,” Gaunt replied, dropping the item and moving to pick up the dead bird. But suddenly, Cuu’s eyes flew open and he crowed, stumbling awkwardly to his scaly yellow feet and fleeing for all he was worth.

With a curse, Gaunt gave chase, but from the start he knew it was a fruitless effort. Even though the chicken was faster than he was, he still might have been able to wait until Cuu thought he was safe to catch him in a corner, but for the pan in the face. The rooster wouldn’t be likely to forget about that easily, and in all honesty, Gaunt couldn’t blame him. But it would make catching him a fething pain, and that wasn’t something he had been prepared for.

But then, out of nowhere, a black blur shot from behind the henhouse and headed unerringly for Cuu, moving to catch him in the side. The rooster saw the blur out of the corner of his eye and screeched hysterically, picking up his pace, but it was too late. The black shape took one last leap and caught the rooster gracefully in midair, breaking his neck by virtue of the sudden stop thereafter. Whirling around, it dropped Cuu at Gaunt’s feet as he halted behind it, and he realized that it was Rawne. The dog blinked coyly, sitting back on his haunches and scratching his ear with an air of placidity.

“Just so you know,” he said, “this does not mean that we’re on even terms. I just couldn’t stand that fething bird anymore.”

“I know what you mean,” Gaunt replied.

“Excuse me?” Dahan asked bewilderedly. “What did you say?”

“I said did you get what you need?”

“Yes, fortunately. I was almost done when…that thing came at me.”

“How about that cut?”

“Oh, I’ve gotten worse around the farm. Father says that I bring out the worst in animals. Or he started to, after the time that one of our cows stepped on my foot.”

Gaunt nodded. “A good man, your father, but a little insensitive at times. He often forgets that not everyone had the misfortune of going through the Sabbat Worlds Crusade.”

“Yeah, but he’s still the best. But about that bird…”

“I’ll send your share of whatever I get out of Cuu in a few days. Drop by anytime.”

“Thanks, I will. As long as you don’t get another one of those monsters.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t.”

Inclining his head, Dahan said, “Alright then, I guess I’ll be seeing you. I’d keep that pan around if I were you; you never know when you might need to whomp a few chickens.”

“I’ll think about it. In the meantime, you’ll want to be going home, or else your father might just come out here with a few of the others looking for you.”

The youth grinned. “Until next time, then.”

“Until next time.”

As soon as Dahan was out of sight, Rawne said, “So all’s well that ends well?”

“I’d like to think so,” Gaunt replied, turning to Cuu’s very dead body and picking it up by the neck.

“How melodramatic.”

“Maybe, but it’s concise. Besides which, when was the last time you cared?”

“Since just now, when I said so.”

“Whatever you say.”

Rawne eyed the feathery corpse in Gaunt’s hands hungrily, whining softly. “What do you intend to do with that thing?”

Gaunt began to eye it as well, considering for a moment before replying, “I thought that maybe chicken pie would make a nice dinner. There‘s still vegetables left from last year in the cellar, and I think Larkin would appreciate something softer than leg.”

The dog whined louder. “Chicken pie I don’t object to, but you can keep your vegetables.”

“Who ever said you were getting any?” Gaunt asked with a smirk, beginning to walk homewards with the dead chicken slung over his shoulder.

Rawne grinned, trotting quickly behind the ex-commissar. “You did just now. I heard it very clearly.”

“I must be getting senile. I don‘t seem to recall any such thing.”

“It was implied.”

“Oh. In that case, you can have a piece. But share some with Feygor, would you? I’d hate to lose those chicks to his bottomless pit of a stomach.”

Rawne smirked. “We’ll see how that turns out.”


End file.
